Games of Chance
by ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Written in response to a prompt from Anonymous on tumblr: Pod is trying to teach Brienne cyvasse or some type of game. Jaime can't stop commenting and challenges her later on to a game. Except the stakes are raised of course?


"No, no, ser my lady; you've checked so you can no longer raise your bet!"

Jaime pauses in mid-stride at the sound of Pod's amused voice.

"I will never understand these rules, Pod."

Jaime turns at Brienne's laughing response. The wench laughs so seldom—everyone is solemn during these dangerous days—that Jaime can't help but want to see what's going on.

He follows their voices round the corner of the tent and finds Brienne and Pod hunched over a small table, cups and dice in front of them with a small mound of pebbles in the middle of the table. Jaime smiles. Leave it to Brienne to not wager real money on the game.

"Let's try again, my lady ser," Pod says, counting out the pebbles between them.

Jaime crosses his arms and watches as Brienne dutifully gathers up her dice and places them in her cup while Pod does the same with his. They shake and slam their cups upside down on the table, the dice hidden from sight.

Both Pod and Brienne peer at their dice, making sure the other does not catch a glimpse, then lower the cups again.

Pod looks at her and exclaims, "No, Lady Brienne! We're not playing high-hand; we're playing Liar's Dice, and I can tell from your face that you must have a high roll. At least three sixes, I'm guessing!"

"You cannot tell that from my face! And I have three fours!"

Pod's eyes narrow. "I wager that you're lying," he says and drops two pebbles in the centre of the table.

"I'll call and raise by—"

"You can't raise if you've called," Jaime says and Brienne's head snaps around. She stares up at him with startled blue eyes.

"I've been telling her that for ages, Ser Jaime," Pod says with a long-suffering air. The glare Brienne turns on him makes his eyes pop wide. "B-but she's never p-played b-before t-today and it t-takes t-time."

"True enough," Jaime says, strolling closer. "Would you like me to assist you, Lady Brienne?"

She turns her glare on him. "I believe I have things well in hand, Ser Jaime," she says with a haughty air.

Jaime's smile returns as he sketches a mocking bow and gestures for them to continue.

She scowls then turns back to Pod with her chin set in determined lines. "So I must either call or raise?"

"Yes, my lady ser."

She nods. "Then I raise," she says and pushes four pebbles into the middle.

"I call," Pod says, adding two pebbles to the pile. "Now, lift the cup."

Brienne lifts the cup with an air of triumph. "See? Two fours and two sixes."

Pod groans and drops his head. "You lose, Lady Brienne."

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. "You bet that I had three sixes; I do not!"

"But _you_ bet that you had three fours," Jaime says in helpful tones, "and you do not. Pod also didn't bet that you had three sixes, only that you did not have three fours."

Brienne gapes at him. "But he said—!"

"He was trying to rattle you, weren't you, Pod? And it worked."

Pod looks startled then nods vigorously. "Yes, yes, Ser Jaime, that's exactly what I was doing."

Brienne shakes her head. "Fine. Your turn."

Pod peeks again at his dice and says, "I have four twos."

Brienne stares hard at him and says, "Two pebbles say you don't."

They wager back and forth, with Jaime helpfully reminding Brienne of the rules for betting every time she opens her mouth until he swears he hears her growl. When she pushes the last of her pebbles to the middle of the table, he says, "I never thought you of all people would be a reckless gambler."

"I appreciate your assistance, Ser Jaime," she growls, "but please shut your mouth!"

He raises his hands in mock surrender.

"He's right, my lady ser," Pod says, shaking his head as he lifts his cup to show he does, indeed, have four twos.

Jaime leans in close to Brienne and says, "You should have suspected when he kept raising the bet."

Brienne groans, pouting a little. "This game makes little sense. I thought it's called Liar's Dice because you must lie!"

Jaime laughs. "Would be an easy game to win if you know the other person is always lying."

Brienne sighs and says, "Go, now, Pod. I believe I'm done trying to understand this game for now."

Pod nods and stands, saying, "Thank you for playing with me, my lady ser." He gives her a shy smile. "I needed the practice."

"Do not follow my lady ser's example when it comes to betting," Jaime warns and Pod nods as he hurries away.

Jaime settles into Pod's chair and says, "Dicing, my lady? I did not expect such behaviour from you."

Brienne blinks her remarkable eyes and says, "Pod has been losing far too many groats lately, and I have no more to give him."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you thought to give him practice by learning the game yourself? Mayhaps you should have sent him to me or Bronn."

"And risk him losing what few dragons he has left?"

Jaime chuckles. "Fair point, my lady. Still, mayhaps he should learn from someone who has more knowledge of the game."

"If you can name one who will not take advantage of him, then I will gladly leave the teaching to them."

"Well, if you insist on being his teacher, you will need to practice."

Her eyes narrow. "With whom?"

"Well, definitely not Bronn! He would empty your pockets without saying a word."

"So that leaves...?"

Jaime puts his gold hand to his heart and bows his head. "I am at your service, my lady."

Her expression becomes only more suspicious.

"You."

"And to make sure you learn your lessons, we won't play for pebbles."

"I have no dragons or groats I can afford to lose, Ser Jaime."

"Clothing, then."

" _Clothing?_ "

"True, this seems something the younger and more foolish among us are wagering, but when in need..."

"I don't understand."

"For each game lost, the loser removes a piece of clothing. The first one naked as their nameday—or the first to turn craven and yield, I suppose—is the one who loses the pot."

"And the pot is a pile of clothing?"

Jaime's shrug is supremely casual even as he marvels at her innocence even in the midst of an army camp. "A way to replenish a sparse wardrobe, I suppose."

"Or leave you shivering in the cold."

Jaime's smile flashes. "That's why it's called gambling, my lady."

Brienne's eyes narrow. "But why—?"

"Because a game is all the sweeter when the stakes are high. If you're too craven...well. Best leave the gambling to men, then."

Jaime watches with interest as Brienne's jaw tightens, and her amazing eyes flare with anger. She's still glaring when at last she says, "All right."

Jaime slowly smiles as he stands. "Good. Sup with me tonight in my tent and we'll have a game immediately after. I may even give you back your clothes at the end of it."

He believes he hears her teeth grinding as he strolls away.

*/*/*/*/*

Several hours later, Jaime stares as Brienne once again wins the game.

He shakes his head as he ruefully unstraps his gold hand and adds it to his boots, belt and gambeson. He wouldn't mind so much if Brienne had at least one boot gone, or mayhaps her sword belt, but she's still frustratingly fully clothed.

He frowns as they gather up the dice and prepare for the next round.

"You look unhappy, Ser Jaime," Brienne says and his frown deepens at the almost-too-innocent tone of her voice.

"No, no, Lady Brienne; simply hoping for better luck in the next game."

They play on and before long, Jaime is once more defeated. He heaves a sigh and begins to tug his tunic from his breeches.

Brienne quickly averts her gaze but Jaime pauses when he sees the blush on her cheeks and the furtive glances from the corners of her eyes. He watches her carefully as he pulls his tunic over his head and adds it to the pile. The air in the tent is cool against his bare skin but the look in Brienne's eyes as she pretends she's not looking scorches the air between them.

Jaime silently watches her furtively watch him before he says, "More wine?"

She starts a little, blinking, and blushes even more at his amused smirk. She nods as he pushes himself to his feet, picks up their goblets, and strolls to the side table. He looks over his shoulder and is pleased to see her wide, fascinated eyes are riveted on him.

He pours them both a small measure of wine and carries the goblets back to the table.

She delicately takes hers and as her fingers graze against his, he says, "Liar's Dice is the name of this game but I suspect the dice is not all you're lying about. You are obviously not the novice player you appeared to be with Pod."

Brienne blushes a deep red but meets his gaze steadily enough.

"Pod was so proud to be able to teach me something," she says, "and he needed to feel he was playing against someone even worse than he at the game. He was very disheartened. Please don't tell him."

"You should have thought of that before proceeding to literally strip me bare. Or almost." He laughs at the expression on her face as she stares up at him. "Still, 'tis a harmless enough lie. I will keep your secret, my lady...for a price."

Her eyes widen. "Price? What price?"

"I'll get to that in a moment. First, tell me where you learned this game so well?"

"I am my father's only living child. He taught me."

Jaime nods. "And the terms of our wager? You were not as innocent about that as you pretended, either."

She blushes again. "I live in an army camp, Ser Jaime," she says and ducks her head in embarrassment. "I have seen what goes on with the camp followers."

"So why did you agree and pretend no knowledge of it?"

"Because I was curious of your intentions."

Jaime raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Brienne's blush deepens. "I know what's to happen when a man makes this wager with a woman, and I do not appreciate mockery."

"So you decided to make me the object of mockery instead." He smiles and lifts his glass in a toast. "Well played, my lady. Very well played."

He drinks then puts his glass down on the table. She watches him, her beautiful eyes cautious.

"I suppose I should concede defeat," he sighs, "else my naked form will be once more exposed to your maidenly eyes. This time I'm not so near death as to make it...hm...as harmless as it was in the baths of Harrenhal. I do, however, demand payment for keeping my silence to Pod."

She blinks. "What kind of payment?"

He cups her chin and she freezes in shock, her eyes growing wide. He tilts her face up as he leans down and presses his mouth against hers. He keeps his lips closed and she sits perfectly still beneath his touch. Her lips are dry and slightly chapped, but plump and soft for all that, and he gently moves his mouth against hers but not as hungrily as he desires. She may be battle-hardened, but she is young and still a maid and he doesn't want to frighten her...or cause her to break his ribs for his pains.

He reluctantly lifts his head although he doesn't remove his hand from her face as he searches her eyes.

"Your secret is safe with me, my lady," he whispers and is pleased to see she looks hazy and dazed. He gently strokes his thumb against the strong line of her jaw as he says, "I intended no mockery, though you may not believe me. I also concede defeat. I hope you don't truly wish to keep the clothing you won? I don't believe you have any use for a gold hand."

She gulps, soundlessly opening and closing her mouth before she finally says, "Well, it...it _is_ made of gold..."

Jaime raises an eyebrow. "Then I hope you will allow me to borrow it until I can have it replaced."

They stare at each other in charged silence until she whispers, "Mayhaps...for a price."

"Ah," he breathes and slowly smiles. He leans down to kiss her again and gives thanks that at least one of his gambles tonight has paid off.

#####


End file.
